Sure Santa is the face that gets plastered onto all the Christmas cards and glorified in the seasonal movies, but every woman knows the real hero of the season is Mrs. Claus.
Mrs. Claus makes Christmas happen. Take the red suit, for example, you don’t seriously think Santa shops for his own clothes? Oh no, Mrs. Claus goes to the fabric store and purchases the red velvet to hand sew a custom suit for her dear husband. And as if that weren’t enough, Santa doesn’t know how to iron. If you left it to him we’d have images of Santa with burned iron outlines on the rump of his suit. Nope, it’s Mrs. …
In a shit-show of a year, sometimes I sit around and dream up news stories I wish would appear when I refresh my screen. If you need a respite from reality and care to share in my delusions please enjoy the following entirely fake news:
Once crippling wild koala populations, chlamydia has been magically eradicated overnight. No longer will these fuzzy Aussie natives suffer painful urination and unsightly discharge. Scientists do not understand how the disease was eliminated, but they are happy it is gone. So go forth and have sexy-times, you adorable little eucalyptus munching fluff balls!
Eat up, you won’t gain an ounce. It turns out it wasn’t the food making us fat, it was a tiny little gene, that you can easily have turned off by self-administering a koodie-shot. Once that has been done you should begin to see your extra pounds melt off. So go nuts! Get all the candy, bread, cakes, chips, and treats you desire. Stuff yourself like you just don’t care, because you don’t! Not anymore. …
Just imagine coming home from a busy day and relaxing in front of a roaring fire to knit while sipping on a glass of wine. Sounds great, right? That’s what I thought when my mom suggesting taking up knitting a great new hobby to help me unwind.
Well, I followed her advice and the following are the truths I learned about knitting:
Enjoy those $50 socks I spent three months making for you. Yes, I know you can buy socks at Walmart for fifty cents, but the nice yarn is expensive. So please slip your feet into these works of art made from the finest superwash merino blend. What’s that? They are too loose and keep slipping down your ankles? EAT SOME SALT AND SWELL THOSE ANKLES UP, because I did not slave over those socks using the tiniest double-pointed needles to have you shove the socks in the back of your drawer never to be worn again! …
After years of careful training and coaching my feline friend is capable of a multitude of tricks that are sure to impress audiences around the world.
Here are just a few examples of her magnificent skills:
Everyone feels bad about the plight of the male ladybug, but many other insects struggle with their identities. Consider the turmoil and pains of the following bugs:
-Dung beetles with OCD who would sooner die than roll up balls of pooh
-Wasps that are really Jewish
-Swallowtail butterflies who prefer to spit
-Hot yellow jackets who don’t enjoy wearing outerwear
-Bumblebees on OK Cupid
-Daddy long legs that can’t have children
-Carpenter ants who prefer decoupage
-Atheist praying mantis
-Fleas that really don’t like The Red Hot Chili Peppers
-Dragonflies that prefer non-fiction
-Black widows who are actually…
Wine, Beer, Liquor — All liquids capable of alerting your mental state are appreciated as gifts. Consider these gifts for that nervous friend who could really use a little relaxation or a blackout. (Note: Please refrain from gifting these items to people in 12 step programs, that is a massive faux-pas even during end-times.)
Hulu Subscription — This is a great gift for the friend who has reached the end screen of Netflix, which until the apocalypse, no one realized it existed.
Stamps — Remember stamps? Yeah, that’s right snail mail is back in vogue, as it is the only way we have to physically reach out into the real world. So give the gift of stamps, shit they are 55 cents each now? …
Try sleeping on your human’s shoe where you can enjoy deep inhales of the footy-fragrance as you drift off to dreamland. As an added bonus, if you wake up with the need to cough up a fur ball you have the perfect receptacle right beneath you.
The magazine the human is actively reading is a great place to lay. Sure you have to hiss and spit a little to get the human to relinquish it to you. But once accomplished you can smother yourself in those glossy pages.
The bed is a spectacular spot for a nap, and no I’m not talking about the pet bed the human purchased for you. That is for suckers like the dog. No, you get the human’s bed. Sprawl out and relax in the comfort go their expensive memory foam mattress. It’s lush, it’s plush, it’s yours. Scream if the human tries to move you or sleep comfortably in the bed with you. Lay on their face and claw it in your sleep. Should the human treat you poorly by say going on vacation or having friends over, don’t be afraid to pee all over the bed. They will buy a new one. …
Was it a vicious saw attack or an opportunity for self-improvement?
My dad is a woodworker. Yeah. Remember your high school shop teacher who was missing a few digits? Well, my dad is also easily distracted, which compounds the effects of his hobby. Thus, text exchanges such as the following are not a rare occurrence:
Direct from Melmac to your television Alf was prime time gold... for a while at least. Fame is, unfortunately, a fickle beast.
You might remember him by his given name, Gordon Shumway, or perhaps you recall Alf‘s penchant for cat meat, solid gold toilet, or maybe even his zeal to collect dryer lint.
What the hell happened to Alf after to show ended? I’ve done some research and based on Alf’s behavior patterns I derived some plausible solutions to the question:
Unable to return to Melmac, as it exploded due to nuclear war, Alf now lives on Pluto, which he used his money from NBC to purchase. Pluto then became a private residence, and that is really why it is no longer a planet. After breaking up with his girlfriend, Rhonda, Alf began production of his own reality television show, Making Out with the Melmacian, starring himself and ET as they pal around space in search of love. It is distributed only on planet Dave and Alvin so far, but he hopes to get it in the five largest galaxy markets by year-end. …
When a visit to Granny’s house is more like Vegas than Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood…
My parents are the most normal people ever. They are squares, pedestrian, vanilla, Switzerland-like people. The same cannot be said for my grandmother. Nope, my Memere, which is French-Canadian for Granny, was a real pistol of a person.
Ole Memere had a lot of quirks about her besides just speaking Fren-glish. She drank Ancient Age whiskey by the fifth, smoked like a dirty chimney, said what she thought with no filter, and wasn’t afraid introduce young me to a variety of completely inappropriate experiences and topics.
Being babysat at Memere’s was the five-year-old’s equivalent to a night on the Vegas Strip. While my parents went out to dinner, my sister and I got to live on the wild side for an evening. Memere would feed us plates of spaghetti bigger then our heads and then for dessert show us how to flip crepes with our bare hands. Playing with hot pans was something mom never let us do. …